Misunderstood
by brokenlovesong
Summary: Badboy!Blaine made a way too rushed assumption about his boyfriend, fashion designer assistant!Kurt, and it takes a pretty bad turn. TW: angst and fluff. That's it.


_I am trying to get back into it with writing so I can actually start updating my stories again. For this I am writing small ficlets here and there. If anyone have any prompts they are very appreciated. These can be send to me here, or to my tumblr: spikeroleplays. Also, this hasn't been edited because it was written on a whim, so bear with_

* * *

It was silly of him to just assume. He realized that now. And oh, how he felt stupid. Once again it was Blaine who had gone and messed up, and maybe their relationship was beyond repair. Again.

Sitting on the bench outside Kurt's apartment he knew it seemed stalker'ish, and if it had been someone else doing it he would have called them a creep – but what was he supposed to do? Kurt hadn't answered his call for an entire weekend. Right now, all Blaine could do was hope Kurt would feel different if he saw him. The only thing was that now Blaine had been sitting there for hours, in the snow, only every now and then getting up to get a cup of coffee from the café on the corner, and he had still not seen as much as Kurt's shadow.

With a heavy sigh Blaine watched his breath like smoke in front of him as he called his boyfriend again. If he even still was his boyfriend, that was.

" _Kurt? Please. I am really sorry. Will you please call me back? I screwed up. I screwed up so bad,_ " Blaine said into the phone, the plastic freezing against his stubbled cheek. " _I miss you. I am so sorry. Kurt…_ " he forced out, holding tears back. For as long as he could.

Fumbling a little Blaine hung up the phone, his gloves sliding awkwardly over the screen before it finally worked. The black hole in the pit of his stomach was growing, it had been growing all weekend. But now it seemed like it was spreading. From his stomach, towards his chest, about to swallow up his heart. All this because he was stupid, idiotic, egocentric. Doomed to chase away the one person he loved and trusted.

Violently scrubbing a knitted glove over his cheeks, ridding his skin off the tears and replacing them with an aggressive red patch, Blaine got to his feet and headed back towards the subway. What had happened to him? Only a year ago he had been sleeping with a new guy every night, even a few girls every now and then just for the heck of it, he refused to have friends, and couldn't remember a sober moment. And here he was pining over a boy.

But the thing was that it wasn't just a boy.

It was Kurt.

Kurt Hummel.

* * *

Kurt Hummel with jeans so tight you could count the coins in his pocket. Kurt Hummel whose hips swayed when he knew that you were looking at his ass. Kurt Hummel who could bend in more ways than your local yoga instructor….

…Kurt Hummel with the cute smile. Kurt Hummel with a nose made for kisses. Kurt Hummel with a voice that could make chills run down your spine, fear rumble in your belly and tears fill your eyes. Kurt Hummel with hands so soft you'd think he was wearing silk gloves. Kurt Hummel whose hugs made you want to never let go. Kurt Hummel who kissed like Hell and Heaven all at the same time. Kurt Hummel whose nose got covered in adorable freckles as soon as the sun made its announcement.

It wasn't just a boy. It was Kurt.

"Blaine?!" A voice burst out, and Blaine was pulled out of his mind. His eyes were black with despair, and he was determinedly headed home to down the bottle of whiskey that was waiting in his room at Cooper's. What else could he really do now? If he didn't have Kurt it's not like anything else really mattered. Until he heard that oh so familiar voice tearing him out of his own head.

And there he was. The boy that out of nowhere swept in and changed everything Blaine thought he knew about himself, about the world – maybe even made him believe that love could be for him, too.

"Blaine, what are you doing here?" Kurt asked, his eyes big and blue, and his cheeks red from the cold. He was wearing a big fluffy scarf that accentuated his jawline where Blaine used to press kisses, and on his head he was wearing a big furry hat with a single caramel lock peeping out under.

"I was -" Blaine started, but stopped himself. Why should he tell Kurt what he was doing there? It's not like he owed him anything anymore. If they weren't together, it really wasn't any of Kurt's business what he was doing, was it?

"I was just heading home. Long weekend. Lots of booze… You know how it is," he shrugged, but even he could hear in his voice that it was complete bullshit. He looked down, scraping around the snow with the tip of his boot, not moving when pedestrians headed for the subway bumped into him. This was Blaine; not moving for anyone.

"Oh… Oh. Alright -" Kurt said, his bell clear voice dropping to a disappointed note and Blaine didn't have to look to know that his face had fallen and he was closing in on himself with his arms curling around his waist, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

The silence between them was thick and draining. The sound of roaming New York around them suddenly felt like a ton of bricks on Blaine's chest, because every tiny sound reminded him that Kurt was standing right in front of him, but there were no words shared. So instead of doing something Blaine turned his back and started walking, only to be met by a heart piercing call.

"Blaine! Don't go. Please," Kurt cried out, and now Blaine didn't even have to look to know that Kurt was crying. Because of him. That was the tone of voice that was only reserved for when Kurt was crying because he had been a stupid idiot. Because that was what Blaine did. It was like his line of work. He played tough, he got wrapped up in Kurt, then he got scared and broke Kurt's heart. It was an endless cycle.

Stopping in his tracks Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How was he supposed to pretend he wasn't affected by that? How was he supposed to play it cool when Kurt was without a doubt crying in the middle of the street? Crying over him. So Blaine turned around. That was just the kind of power Kurt had over him.

"Why not? Why shouldn't I? So I can stay and fuck up even more than I already have? Or do you just want to see my face when you tell me that you never want to see me again, huh?" He asked, pursing his lips, trying to keep himself together.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, eyes narrow and dark, teeth clenched together as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was painfully hard not to look directly at Kurt's face, because he knew what he would see there, and he knew that he would turn into a puddle of mush, and then it would be done run right there in the city of snow and Christmas decorations. And now that it was too late anyway, there was nothing that should take away from him to not fall apart until he was cuddled up in bed with whiskey and a joint.

"What are you talking – What do you mean about that? Blaine, what is going on?" Kurt wailed, most likely tears running into his mouth by now. He had seen it so often. And then there was a loud thump, a squeal and finally Blaine looked up… to see Kurt on his ass in the snow, thick sobs falling from his mouth. With ripped mittens and his outfit completely wet and dirty.

"Kurt! What happened?" Blaine spat out, and how could he hold back now? So in a matter of seconds Blaine was by his side on his knees, the snow stabbing through the tears that had left his knees bare so pebbles and newly melted water wetting down his leg.

"You can't just… What were you… Are you just gonna leave me like that?" Kurt sobbed, face hidden against his arm as his body was shaking, and his voice muffled by wool.

And of course Blaine couldn't help but grab his hands, checking them over to see how bad the damage was. Without saying anything he took of his own gloves so he could carefully slide Kurt's off to a whimper. Blaine looked them over, relieved to find that it was mostly scrapes.

"Are you? Are you gonna… Is this – Are we over?" Kurt suddenly asked, voice only a shaking and slightly thick from tears. He was now looking up at Blaine, and there was no way Blaine could look away. His eyes were glassy, a little red, and he looked tired. Unbelievably tired. And all Blaine could do was dump down on his ass, right there next to Kurt so his jeans soaked too, and everyone were staying at them like they were crazy. Which they very likely were.

"What are you talking about? The last thing I heard from you were you yelling at me that I was a jerk. That was three days ago. And I – your phone has been off. You've ignored my calls. Haven't reacted to the right about hundreds of messages I've left on your voice mail – some drunker than others. What was I supposed to think Kurt? You hated me! I could hear it!" Blaine blabbered out, and it wasn't until he started stumbling over the words and searching for breath that he was crying again, and that was the last thing he needed.

No. This was the last thing he needed.

Kurt was laughing. Not a giggle, not a chuckle, a loud laughter as he left his forehead drop to Blaine's shoulder, making his own body vibrate a little.

"Blaine, honey – We had a fight. That's all. My phone broke because I dropped it when I left your place and I have been so swamped with work that I haven't had the chance to get it fixed. Blaine…" Kurt laughed and looked up to Blaine's face, turning his head with a careful hand. And for once it was Kurt who was wiping tears off Blaine's face and not the other way around.

"You were a jerk. Such a big jerk! It was my hopefully new boss you saw me at dinner with. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx it," Kurt sighed and leaned in to press a kiss to Blaine's cheek. His lips were cold, but soft and moist, like he had just put on that cherry lip balm Blaine loved to kiss off his mouth whenver he had the chance to. And then Kurt punch his arm, strong and secure, like Blaine had taught him so he could defend himself – and if Blaine's arm hadn't been in pain right now, he would have been a little proud.

"Why the hell didn't you just say so when I started being an ass, then?" He groaned, hunching his shoulders to his ears.

"Because you were so busy accusing me of 'checking out older dudes' to even let me get a word in," Kurt chuckled sarcastically and sat straight on the curb.

All Blaine could do was close his eyes and shake his head. This was without a doubt the stupidest thing that had ever happened. He was so sure Kurt had left him. That Kurt wouldn't ever want to see him again. That Kurt had finally found his true match with perfectly groomed hair that put Blaine's wild curls to shame. A true match who pulled out the chair for Kurt before he sat, unlike Blaine who dumped down on the nearest surface and just pulled Kurt into his lap. A true match who were suits worth thousands of dollars, while Blaine wore the same three pairs of ripped jeans – all of them stolen from the nearest GAP. A true match who knew how to pronounce the fancy wines on the wine card, where Blaine preferred a beer or a whiskey. A true match who knew his limits, where Blaine drank until he (sometimes literally) passed out where he was. A true match that was everything Kurt deserved, and everything Blaine wasn't.

"I'm sorry," Blaine mumbled awkwardly, his eyes locked on the ground as he sat up.

"I was just really scared. It looked so perfect. Like – that was where you belong." He gave a small shrug, and suddenly he was aware of how cold and tired he was in his entire body, and how he hadn't had a damn cigarette for hours because he was scared if he went to the 7-Eleven two blocks down he would miss Kurt coming or leaving.

"You are such an ass," Kurt snapped and grabbed a handful of Blaine's curls at the back of his head, forcefully turning his head so their eyes could meet.

"Why would I want anything else, when I have just what I want – what I need – right here? This obnoxious, stupid, overreacting, short tempered, jealous idiot. Who could want more?" He joked, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, and Blaine couldn't help smile back through tears, loving the dimples that showed on Kurt's face. This time the red was a blush, and what was he supposed to do now? He was so caught in Kurt's web.

"I love you. Only you."

And then Kurt's lips were on Blaine's pressing firmly, with a need and a craving as Kurt's hand was squeezing his thigh before he pulled away way too early and Blaine was left with a kissing pout hanging midair as he stared confused at Kurt.

"But you know, if you ever accuse me of cheating again I am gonna rip that piercing right out of your skin. And I don't mean the one in your face," Kurt threatened, finger pointing sharply at Blaine's nose.


End file.
